This story is about me. Only me. It’s about my ego and insecurities and fears and needs.
I typically write what I think might be useful for others to know and understand, but this is different. It’s more like a diary entry. A confessional. A cry of frustration.
It’s the sort of thing I would address to a wife or partner or trusted companion — if I had a woman in that role. It’s my half of a conversation which I would need to have with someone who loved me and believed in me and was permanently a part of my life.
So this probably isn’t for you.
I’m struggling right now. In many ways, things are the best in my life that they’ve been for at least 20 years. I have stability and purpose again. I know where I want to go. I’m more clear about my values and my priorities than I’ve ever been in my life.
But I’m struggling with the gap between how things ought to be and the reality I see in front of me. And that gap terrifies me — because nobody lives forever.

In winner-take-all systems, swing voters matter only at election time
Why let your enemy control you by choosing to listen to his hate?
Life’s path can change direction when you’re ready for real love
AUDIO: We rarely realize we’re wasting our lives ’til it’s too late
Calm and perspective needed for Boston, not accusations and games
Muslims protecting Christian church remind us there’s good in all groups
Here’s a hot news flash: State ‘industrial policy’ still doesn’t work
This is my private confessional; the truths I write often scare me